An Ode to Hope in 2019.
The other night I was feeling restless and like I needed to move around, as is often the case around 12:30 am for me. It’s one of my brains most active periods. I decided to joyride around, get stoned, and explore some roads I don’t normally roam...
Wherein a severe car crash evokes meditations on the meaning of life, car culture, and the feasibility of riding a horse to work.
Just a man, on a mission, in his knickerbockers, to get some local, sustainably-sourced, organic grapefruits for his Uncle Benny's campfire.
"I sat on my couch, listening to the sounds of gunshots and screams of people getting eaten alive on the sidewalk below, just trying to make it all feel real."
A love letter to my collection, and yours - may we never stop searching and growing.
Inspired by observations in the San Francisco Bay Area.
All that seems to move is the illusion of time, never finding the strength to adapt.
Oh, they'll never know how I reached out just like so. Perhaps it's time to go. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet...
Time and reality keep slipping, slipping, melting away...